


sober

by itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN (alex_marie1324)



Series: songfics [19]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Healing, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_marie1324/pseuds/itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN
Summary: three months and i’m still sober.picked all my weeds but kept the flowers.





	sober

**Author's Note:**

> _originally posted on 3/27/18 on[amino](http://aminoapps.com/p/ttj3lq)_
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> _this focuses more on the healing process, but it does discuss abusive relationships. be aware._
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> few notes  
> -human!squip  
> -yes I named them Sebastian ok  
> -squip in this goes by they/them
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> [song inspo](https://youtu.be/Be4ci589Guk)

_and i don't know,_  
_this could break my heart or save me._

Today. Today, he was going to do it. He’d long since packed his bags, kept them in the closet, but he never acted on them. He just let them sit. Let them stare at him day in and day out, let them see the newest bruises.

Sometimes it felt like they were mocking him. They were closer to escape than he was.

 _nothing’s real,_  
_until you let go completely._

He had to do this. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to do this. He didn’t know how he felt.

One thing could never be mistaken, he wouldn’t let it: he loved Sebastian. And Sebastian loved him too, he knew it. Which was why he didn’t want to leave. He was only certain of that one thing and if he clung to it than nothing else mattered.

No one else would love him the same, Sebastian had said so. But maybe he wanted a different love.

 _so here i go with all my thoughts I’ve been saving,_  
_so here i go with all my fears weighing on me._

He finally picked up the suitcases. He felt their weight, but more so he felt the weight of everything he was leaving behind. He couldn’t take with him everything and he couldn’t leave the memories even if a part of him wanted to.

So, midday, while Sebastian was at work, he just... walked out. Suitcases in hand and a friend coming to pick him up. He was gone.

But that didn’t mean he was free. He knew Sebastian would call. They’d try everything to find him, get him back. His chest ached. He still loved them. He wasn’t sure where his life could go from here, without someone to love and care for him the way Sebastian had.

Though also without someone to scream and yell and throw fists and flowers.

 _three months and i’m still sober._  
_pick all my weeds but kept the flowers._  
_but i know it’s never really over._

Healing, contrary to popular belief, is awful. It hurts, trying to clean out old, infected wounds. Jeremy soon learned this.

You have to tear yourself down from skin to bone and rebuild it without the ache that settled in long again. And it hurt, more than any blow delivered by them. More than anything he’d ever experienced.

 _and i don’t know,_  
_i could crash and burn but maybe,_  
_at the end of this road i might catch a glimpse of me_

Standing on his own two feet again was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. He never knew if his support would give out and he’d go crashing down, but at the same time, there he was.

On his own.

The idea was surreal. It was never just Jeremy. His whole life, even before meeting them, he was dependent on someone else.

 _so I won’t worry about my timing, i want to get it right,_  
_no comparing, second guessing, no not this time._

He remembered reading somewhere that the reason human babies can’t walk at birth like other mammals was because they didn’t have kneecaps. He felt like he’d never had the space to develop his own.

But this time? This time he was going to do everything /right/. He’d bend and stretch his legs until they felt comfortable under his body.

 _three months and i’m still breathing._  
_been a long road since those hands i left my tears in but i know,_  
_it’s never really over, no._

He managed. He did okay. He wasn’t sure if he was living or just breathing, but he got by. He went to therapy- at a friend’s insistence- and he supposed it helped.

But at the same time it was part of healing. A painful process. He felt like some of his wounds had just started to itch and the therapist was teaching him how to ignore the itch. Let the scars heal without disturbing them.

_wake up._

_three months and i’m still standing here,_  
_three months and i’m getting better yeah,_  
_three months and i still am._

He slowly climbed the mountain with no real peak. There was no one singlar destination where he could stake a flag and say he was okay now. But he climbed continuously, finding new definitions of ‘okay’. Learning to live.

 _three months and it’s still harder now,_  
_three months i’ve been living here without you now,_  
_three months yeah, three months._

Some days he woke up weak. His bones felt brittle and if he moved everything ached. If there was truly a physical pain or not, he didn’t know. And he didn’t care, because either way, it hurt.

Some days he didn’t get out of bed. He laid and itched and picked at injuries all day, fresh blood that he’d have to clean at his next therapy session.

Some days he missed them. He missed their arms, their smile. But then he’d remember their words, cutting deeper than any knife they ever held to him, and he’d remember why he had to leave.

 _three months and i’m still breathing_  
_three months and i still remember it_  
_three months and i wake up_

Things like this never stop hurting. But you learn to ignore the aching, put it to the back of your mind. Jeremy knew this now. The whole thing was a learning process with an uphill curve. There was little room for error.

He still wasn’t sure when exactly he’d be able to wake up and unquestioningly think he was okay. He wasn’t sure it would ever happen.

But for now? For now he was working towards it, and that was all that mattered.

 _three months and i’m still sober._  
_picked all my weeds but kept the flowers._


End file.
